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“I’m right there with you.” Claire’s voice was low, rough, barely more than a growl. The words scraped out of her. “Come with me.”

“Oh god⁠—”

Delaney cried out, her body arching, trembling as the wave took her. Claire followed with a groan she barely recognized, her own release crashing through her. She held Delaney through it, their hips slowing.

Neither of them moved for a long moment. Delaney stayed draped over her, breath hot against Claire’s neck, the length of her trembling in small aftershocks. Claire’s hands slid up from her hips, over the curve of her ribs, up her spine. She wanted to memorize the shape of her. Delaney lifted her head, eyes dark and wide, and kissed her.

It was slower this time. Delaney’s mouth moved over hers like she had nowhere else to be, like the whole night belonged to them. Claire’s fingers threaded into her hair, holding her there, feeling the wild beat of Delaney’s heart through her chest. A small sound escaped Delaney, something soft and satisfied, and she settled deeper into the kiss.

When she finally pulled back, Delaney’s finger traced Claire’s jaw. “That was amazing,” she whispered.

“It was.”

Delaney kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her cheek. The line of her jaw. Claire let her, eyes closed, the weight of Delaney pressing her into the mattress in the best way.

“Your heart’s still going,” Delaney murmured against her throat.

“Is it?”

“It’s a good sound.” Delaney kissed her pulse point. “I could fall asleep to that.”

Claire’s arm circled her waist, pulling her tighter. “Then do.”

Delaney shifted, tangling their legs, tucking her face into the curve of Claire’s shoulder. Claire’s hand moved in slow circles over her back.

Outside, the ranch was quiet. No coyotes tonight. No wind. Just the two of them and the slow, evening out of Delaney’s breath against her collarbone.

13

“Cut. Hold the roll, we’re just resetting the bounce.”

Nadia’s voice crackled through the walkie talkies before carrying across the grass, and the sound guy lowered his boom pole an inch, rolling his shoulders. Delaney let out a long breath, loosening her fingers on the leather reins so Maple could drop her head and tear at a clump of dry September grass.

Delaney leaned her palm against the rough horn of the saddle. The jagged crests of the mountains were dusted with a fresh, bright powdering of snow that hadn’t been there two days ago, a sharp reminder of how quickly the Montana autumn was running out on them.

Her gaze drifted past the tangled black cables coiled in the tall weeds, past the boxy silver profile of the camera truck parked beside the monitors. Fifty yards out, right where the chaos of the set gave way to open pasture, Claire sat quiet atop Ranger.

She had her forearms crossed over the pommel, her felt hat tipped low against the sun, talking to Eli. The sleeves of her faded blue flannel were rolled to the elbows.

A heavy ache pulled low in Delaney’s stomach, completely inappropriate with the crew milling around in down vests and mud-caked boots. She shifted in the saddle, the leather creaking under her jeans, and looked away before Nadia or Vivian could follow her sightline.

Nobody knew.

That was the funniest, wildest part of the last seven days.

By six-thirty every morning, they were professionals. Delaney hit her marks, said June’s lines, and took Claire’s quiet corrections between takes with a straight face, even while her body still hummed from the night before. The slick, heavy heat lingering between her thighs, the wicked drag of Claire’s mouth down her throat, and the faint red marks her fingertips had left pinned into Delaney’s hips.

But in the evening, when the sun dropped behind the range, and the taillights of the crew vans bounced over the cattle guard toward the motel in Juniper Falls, the night belonged to them.

Delaney patted Maple’s warm, dusty neck, a ridiculous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re looking awfully pleased with yourself for a woman who’s been in a saddle since eight,” Vivian said, walking over from the monitors with her heavy canvas coat hanging open. She shielded her eyes, squinting up at Delaney. “You’re very believable on that horse, you know. I’d never have known that you didn’t ride before.”

“Thank you,” Delaney said. “I am really loving this though. Being up here. Looking out at this scenery.”

Vivian smiled. “Don’t lose that light in your eyes before they turn the camera back around. It’s doing half my work for me. It’s like you’ve fallen in love with your script, with your characters all over again.”

“Yeah. It’s everything though. You, the cast, the crew, the atmosphere.”